


Hell In High Heels

by buckys_stripper_splits



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Degradation, Explicit Sexual Content, Facials, M/M, Name-Calling, Oral Sex, Pole Dancing, Stripper!Bucky, Swearing, blowjob, lap dance, strip club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckys_stripper_splits/pseuds/buckys_stripper_splits
Summary: “You know," Bucky whispers as he settles into a slow, sinful grind. "These kind of things are part of a completely different show I put on. But, I think I'll make an exception for you."Or, the fic where Bucky Barnes gives Captain America a lap dance and a little something extra.





	Hell In High Heels

Steve had been tense throughout the whole week, evident by the mess of paperwork strewn across his office desk and even his floor. He hadn't left his office in days it seemed, and his friends started to notice. They came to the conclusion that the current mission was the reason for his stress. Steve refused to leave his office. Some nights he would even sleep at his desk, surrounded by papers.

"You need to get out of the Tower," his friend Sam tells him as he leans against Steve's office door. "You're a _mess_."  
"I'm almost done, I promise," Steve says back as he frantically types away on his computer.  
"Just need to find a way into this damn database-"

"You been sayin' that for three hours! C'mon man, let's go out and have some fun. You need it," his friend interrupts, placing a large hand on his shoulder.

"What he _needs_ is to get laid," a voice says from down the hall. Tony peeks his head in and looked at the two men. "What?" he asks. "Too straightforward?"  
The two friends nod.  
"I don't care. Come on, Gramps we're taking you somewhere."  
Tony grabs Steve by the collar and pulls him along to his car.

"B-but I still need to-"

"Hey, Tony's right, man, you need to get some tonight. If you don't, I'll kick your ass, so you better loosen up tonight," Sam jokes as the three men pile into Tony's car.  
Steve begrudgingly goes along with whatever his friends were planning; of course, his work was still tugging at the back of his mind. He didn't even see where Tony was driving them until he came to a stop and said, " _We're hereee_ ," in a singsongy voice.

The three climb out of the car and the first thing Steve sees is pink fluorescent lights that spell out The Tower.  
"Where exactly _is_ here?" Steve asks. The overwhelming smell of alcohol and the sleazy music playing gave him an idea, but he prayed it wasn't that. Not that it would be totally out of character for Tony to do.

"Didn't you know?" Sam laughs. "Our friend, Tony here, owns a strip club."  
Sam claps Steve on the back and heads inside, laughing at his look of horror. This was way out of Steve's comfort zone, but he knew Tony wouldn't let him back out now.

"T-Tony I don't know if this is-"

"This is a _great_ idea and you are going to have _fun_. Like Sam said, loosen up, Cap." Tony grips the captains shoulder and pulls him inside. Defeated, Steve follows along as they make their way into the club, dodging drunks and way-too-touchy strangers.  
It's a very impressive club to say the least.  
Despite the darkness of it, red and blue strobe lights cast colorful hues about the vast dance floor. Deep red booths were placed near the back alongside a huge, well-lit bar.

Sam was nowhere to be seen at this point, but Tony and Steve didn't worry. He was probably on the dance floor showing off to complete strangers; on his way to getting pleasantly drunk.  
The two make their way to the bar and, without a word, one of the bartenders sits a drink in front of Tony.

 "This is insane! Why do you own a strip club?! More importantly, why did you name it after the Avengers Tower?" Steve yells over the music. Tony takes a swig from his drink and pauses for a second to smack his lips at the taste.  
"Midlife crisis?" he yells back, though it's more of a question.  
He orders Steve something— god knows what— and he instantly downs it. Five shots and two beers in, Steve was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. It took a lot for the super soldier to actually get drunk, but once he was, it wasn't pretty.

"You better slow down, Gramps. I know how you get when you're drunk," Tony laughs.  
"Hey," Steve says, voice a little hoarse. "You wanted me to loosen up, this is how it's gonna happen."  
Jesus fuck, he was _wasted_.

Suddenly, a man walks up to Tony and whispers something to him. Steve came to the conclusion that this man must be one of the strippers because of the black robe that covered him and the tall high heel boots he wore.  
_Oh, so not only does Tony own a strip club, but a_ gay _strip club_ , he thought while his blurry eyes tried to make out the dancers features.

"Steve where are your manners?" Tony yells, making Steve pull his eyes from the dancer in front of him. "If you're gonna undress the poor thing with your eyes at least introduce yourself."  
The dancer giggles and playfully shoves Tony. Steve held out a hand awkwardly.  
"I-I'm Steve Rogers," he slurs. "And I wasn't undressing you with my eyes. Promise."

"You're right, Mr. Stark, he _does_ need to get laid," the dancer laughs. He pulls Steve in for a hug.  
"I'm Bucky."

Wondering if that was his real name or not, Steve pulls back to look at him again. "I assume you're one of the dancers?" he asks, hoping his previous hypothesis was right and he didn't just ask a stranger if he was a stripper. _Oh god, who asks that_?   
Bucky laughs again.

"What? Did my body give it away? Eyes up, tiger," he teases. Steve's face went crimson.

"N-no! I just assumed from the heels-"

"I'm playing. Speaking of dancing, I'm on next so don't be a stranger." And with that, Bucky left, making sure to sway his hips as he went. The distant click click click of his heels was hypnotizing to Steve and he couldn't help but stare in Bucky's direction even after he had disappeared.

Moments later— after another half beer or so— the music picks up and people clamor as a spotlight shown on the small stage near the back of the club. Tony gives Steve a push and tells him to _go watch, Rogers. This is your night so enjoy yourself._  
And so he does.

He has to push his way through a thick crowd of drunken, horny men to get near the front, and when he stares up at the stage his breath hitches.  
Slowly— like a predator hunting its prey—Bucky is sauntering down the stage, his robe from earlier still clinging loosely to his body, exposing his prominent collarbones. His eyes intense as he scans the crowd. When his gaze lands on Steve, he gives him a wink.  
The music has completely drowned from Steve's ears and it was as if time stopped. He is completely and utterly entranced by the man on stage as he circles around and around the pole.

At first, he just struts around it to the beat of the song, toying with it like a cat would it's scratching post. Then, he lifts himself up and spins, hanging on with one hand as his body gracefully went round and round the pole.  
Facing the audience, he slides down, circling his hips as he goes; left hand on the pole, right tangled in his long brown locks.  
He makes sure to spread his knees so the spotlight could catch on the shiny fabric that covered his bottom (leather, it looked like).

He pulls himself back up the pole and continues his routine of spins and flips; some moves Steve wonders how in the world a human could move like that. His head is spinning from a mixture of alcohol and the fact that Bucky's eyes haven't left Steve's and his dick gives an interested twitch.

Bucky struts to the edge of the stage where he slowly, seductively peels off his robe and discards it to the side. He was left half naked and the whistles and cheers of the men around Steve flood out of his senses as his eyes lock on Bucky.  
His eyes never left him that night.

When the show was over, Tony grabs Steve and whispers something about a private show— to which he _agreed_ , like a drunk  _idiot_ — and follows Tony to a room marked **Private Shows Only**. Tony shoves him into the room, says _Good luck, Rogers_ , and leaves with a wink.

The room was dark with fluorescent undertones of red and blue, and in the middle sat a single chair and a pole. Upon further inspection, the chair seems to be bolted into the floor. Steve runs a hand over the leather seat, wondering what he got himself into.

"Couldn't stay away?"

Steve's head whips around and he nearly chokes on his breath. Now that they were face to face Steve could better see what Bucky was wearing.  
A very sheer, oversized tank top covered most of his body; it didn't do much to cover the band of black leather around his chest that shown through the thin fabric.  
Leather shorts peeked out from under the tank top and a shimmery, silver fabric encased his left arm. The heels he wore reach his toned thighs and click loudly against the hard floor.

"I-I..." Steve's voice was lost. He must look like an idiot to Bucky; standing there completely dumbstruck like some horny teenager who just found out what a Playboy was.  
Bucky smirks wickedly. "You know," he purrs as he made his way to Steve, who backs up out of instinct until the back of his legs meet the chair and he tumbles down.  
"Tony paid for this himself. You too must be pretty close, yeah? He talks about you sometimes."

"H-he's a friend," Steve says, praying to god he isn't stuttering. He swallows when Bucky rests a knee against his leg.  
"Oh?" Bucky queries, mere inches from Steve's face. " _Just_ a friend?"  
Steve nods, slow and staggered, completely and utterly speechless.  
"Hmm... Well then, I wonder if _your_ cock is as big as his."

Steve's shocked face only seems to egg him on.  
"Yeah, you aren't the only one who get's private shows, tiger. Though, I must say, I am particularly excited about this one."

Steve didn't even notice the soft music playing until he hears the dancer hum along for a brief second.  
Bucky was now straddling Steve's lap, fingers lacing behind his neck. He leans in near his ear and licks the sensitive skin just under the lobe.  
" _I can tell you're excited too._ "  
Slowly, he rolls his hips against Steve's, making him groan.

When Steve realizes what was actually happening— like a burst of sobriety shot through him— he instantly pushes the dancer off of him.

"Shit!" he hisses. He didn't mean for it to come off as rude; did Bucky even take it like that? Who knows. Point is, the sudden friction had scared him.  
"I-I'm sorry. I've just never— i-it's been a while."  
_Try 70 freaking years..._

Bucky looks confused, not hurt or annoyed. "Do you—" he starts as he shifts from side to side, looking for what to say. Not surprisingly, his customers don't usually freak out. "Do you want me to keep going?"

Steve looks up to the icy blue eyes in front of him. God, Bucky's voice sounds so good. Like a low, soft purr from the back of his throat and deep inside his chest. It alone was turning Steve on more than he cared to admit. Frightened him.  
He swallows thickly. "Y-yes."

Bucky smiles, letting out a low chuckle. He places his hands on Steve's thighs and bends back down to his ear.  
"You want a dance, Stevie? I'll give you a show if you ask real nice." His voice is a low growl, mixed with lust and want.  
Steve could only nod, eyes pleading, letting out a flustered, "P-please, Bucky."  
Bucky gives his ear a nip before straightening up to gaze at the man in the chair. Steve was blushing so hard it reached his neck and ears.

One by one, Bucky pops a few buttons on Steve's top, admiring how he reacts to the touch.  
"We'll go slow," he assures him. "I won't do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just relax and keep those eyes on me."

Steve didn't need to be told twice. His knuckles were turning white from gripping his knees as the soft music got loud enough for him to hear lyrics. His heart rate picks up when Bucky slowly spun around the pole in the middle of the room. It was now between the two of them and he slides down just how he did on stage, eyes baring into Steve's.

He comes back up and spins again; climbing up and holding on with his legs as his arms move with the music. He slowly slides back down into a full split, shocking Steve to say the least.  
Steve was watching so intensely that he almost forgot what exactly was happening. All he was focusing on was the gorgeous man in front of him.

When he pulls himself up with the pole once more and circles around Steve's chair. He swings a leg over him and sits on his lap— back to his front— and leans down to expose the soft skin of his back. Ever so slightly, his hips roll making Steve nearly choke at the sight. He had a perfect view of Bucky's ass; all round and defined in those tight little shorts of his. The things Steve wanted to do to him were sinful, absolutely sinful, and he couldn't even bring himself to feel bad about it as his confidence slowly came back.  
He wanted to hear him scream his name and feel his fingernails scratch up his skin more than anything. The mere thought of the sweet sounds Bucky would make had his dick twitching in his jeans.

Bucky ends up on his knees facing the super soldier. With a smirk, he crawls towards him. Predator hunting it's prey...  
He runs nimble fingers up Steve's jean clad legs and rests them on his thighs. He draws small circles closer and closer to his crotch, but never actually touching it. Steve's hips jerk, despite him trying to keep himself together. Bucky chuckles.

He gives his right inner thigh a kiss and repeats the same on the left. He slowly kisses his way up his perfect body. Across his belly, chest, all the way to his neck. Steve stifles soft moans and tries to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks, and the tightening of his jeans.  
Bucky slides his hands up and down Steve's chest, even running his hand under the button up he wore to caress his heated skin. He peels his thin tank top off all the while still moving his hips to the beat of the song.

"Fuck," Steve groans. His eyes graze over Bucky's body. He was tan and fit as all hell and Steve could see the faint blush of his skin even in the dark room. The way Bucky gazed up at Steve like he wanted to devour him made him swallow hard.  
"Like what you see, Stevie?" Bucky teases, sitting back on his knees. Steve had no will to open his lips to say anything, instead he just nods.

Bucky bites down on his plush bottom lip and makes his way onto Steve's lap, never sitting fully on him. He just rolls and sways his hips above Steve to the beat of the music, running his hands through his own hair.  
Steve's fists clench and reach for his hips to pull him down, but he was pushed back.  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk... No touching, tiger," Bucky mumbles hotly.

A thin sheen of sweat covers Steve's heated skin, his throat dry as he swallows once more. He was desperate for any sort of friction at this point. Even to the point of begging.  
"P-please..." Steve whispers. There was no hiding the tent in his jeans now. Bucky kneels down, those intense blue eyes piercing into Steve, and licks a slow, agonizing stripe across his neck, smirking when Steve's eyebrows knit together. He leaves open-mouth kisses along his Adam's apple and down to his exposed collar bone. Steve feels the pleasant ache of teeth grazing against his skin and he bites his cheek.

"God, Buck!" he hisses. " _Please_!"  
Bucky always found it cute when his customers beg— it was honestly his favorite part. Letting his torturous game go, Bucky suddenly grinds his hips against Steve's, making him moan and toss his alcohol-foggy head back.

"You know," Bucky whispers as he settles into a slow, sinful grind. "These kind of things are part of a completely different show I put on. But, I think I'll make an exception for you."  
Bucky's hips move so professionally Steve thought he would come undone just by that alone. He knew exactly the right amount of pressure and speed to apply to make the soldier mad with lust.

Bucky's hands reach down and he unbuttons and unzips Steve's jeans, smirking when he feels just how hard he was. He wiggles his way off his thighs and places himself between them, making sure to leave bite marks against Steve's hipbones. Looking up through thick lashes, Bucky's hand slowly, torturously reaches into his way-too-tight jeans.  
"What do you want, Stevie?" he purrs. Steve grips the sides of the chair and leans his head back again, praying to God that he could keep himself under control.

"You know damn well what," he bites out.  
Bucky smirks and presses his palm against Steve, making him groan.  
"I wanna hear you say it."

Fucking tease...

"God... F-fuck, just— I wanna feel your mouth around me..."  
Any hint of dominance had fleeted from Steve's words. His voice was needy and almost embarrassingly high in his throat. Smirking, Bucky pulls Steve's cock out— admiring the shape of it, all hot and heavy (his height and weight weren't the only things the serum enhanced, after all) —and gives it a long lick from base to tip. He relishes in the loud groan Steve lets out. It was a low, impatient growl that sent shockwaves all the way down to Bucky's own cock.  
Luckily for Bucky, Steve is a good listener and remains still (despite the fact that he kinda, sorta wanted to fuck up into his throat so hard his voice would be wrecked for days).

Bucky slowly sinks his mouth down Steve's full length, hollowing his cheeks when his nose brushes against his body. He nearly gag, but forces himself to stay put for a few more seconds, really wanting to give Steve his 100%. He pulls off with a deep breath and lets the spit and pre cum fall from his wet lips to the tip of Steve's cock.  
Steve, honest to God, _whines_. Be it the sight of Bucky or the pleasure or whatever, Bucky made Captain fucking America whine. He can barely contain his smirk. Steve earned this, goddammit, after being frozen for 70 plus years, and hell, Bucky is just doing America a favor.

Bucky spreads the spit and cum down Steve's shaft and works a loose fist around him before sinking his head back down completely. This time, he did gag, throat constricting around Steve's cock, and honestly, it shouldn't have been as hot as it was. Bucky gazes up at Steve through teary lashes and pulls up to suck at the tip, tongue playing with the slit ever so slightly.  
It took a lot on Steve's part to not shove his head back down and just fuck into his pretty little mouth, but he manages to contain himself during Bucky's little game of tease.

Bucky's red lips kiss just below the tip and he works his hand a little tighter and a little faster. He adds his mouth back into the mix, head bobbing up and down at an unforgiving pace and a loud slew of noises fill the room that would make anyone blush up if they so happened to hear.  
Steve almost chokes on the moans spilling from his mouth. Bucky swallows around him, his warm throat tightening and loosening around him in a way that made Steve's eyes roll back in pure pleasure.

"F-feels so good, Buck," he whispers, resisting the urge to run his fingers through Bucky's soft locks. Bucky peers up at him through his lashes again, feigning innocence, and slowly pulls off with a satisfying, wet pop. He works a tight grip along Steve's cock, twisting his wrist on upstrokes. His tongue flicks against the tip to taste the small amount of pre cum that had budded out.

"Just wait, Stevie. I know something that feels even better," he moans as he stands up. He straddles Steve's strong thighs and giggles when he hissed at the feeling of leather on slick skin.  
"You can touch."

As quickly as the words left his mouth, Steve's hands grab his hips tightly. Desperate fingers sink into soft skin, making Bucky gasp and grip Steve's broad shoulders. He runs his hands from his shoulders to his neck and pulls him in for a kiss.  
He didn't usually kiss his customers, but Bucky was so lost in the moment that he didn't think twice about it. Somehow, the kiss— the warm wet of Steve's lips, or maybe the needy breath that fanned against his face— was the thing to push him over the edge. His erection (which he kept so professionally under control) was growing harder with each passing second.

Steve moves his hands down to cup Bucky's ass. Now it was his turn to smirk at the dancers gasp of pleasure. He was quickly taking control and he leans up to attach his lips to Bucky's Adam's apple, suckling.  
If the pleasure wasn't fogging his head, Bucky would have stopped him. Visible marks of any kind were prohibited at the strip club, Tony's orders. Instead, he embraces the feeling of Steve's lips and shudders when he felt fingers dip into his shorts.

Steve feels the smoothness of Bucky's skin under the tight leather. Much like his legs, Bucky's ass was nicely toned, yet still had the perfect amount of squishiness to it. Steve smiles and grabs it again, kneading the skin. He presses his face against Bucky's neck and hums contently like he fucking forgot what they were doing.

"You just gonna play with my ass all night?" Bucky teases. Despite him trying to keep up his sassy manner, his voice came out in pants.  
Steve smirks. "I had other things in mind, if I'm being honest," he says, taking his hand from the shorts and giving him a soft slap.

Bucky laughs and says, "Good," as he stands up again. "So did I, tiger."  
Slowly, he undid a long zipper on the side of his shorts. The muffled _zzzip_ made every hair on Steve's neck stand on end.  
Bucky gestures for him to tug the shorts down himself and he complies, happily.  
Steve sucks a sharp breath through his teeth when the transparent, black lace of Bucky's panties was revealed. They were hardly big enough to contain his erection and Steve was honestly surprised it didn't pop out.

Bucky crawls back into his lap quickly, all hot and needy. He grabs Steve's wrist when he notices his confused expression, and leads his hand back to his ass, pushing the thin panties to the side.  
"Don't worry, Stevie. Look, I'm all ready for you," he purrs softly. He rocks his hips back onto Steve's hand, making him moan.  
"Fuck, Bucky," he says. His fingers ran over hot, wet skin, collecting enough lube to coat them. He massages and presses just enough to draw out a gorgeous sound from Bucky.

"You like that, Stevie? Like the thought of me opening myself up for you? I couldn't stop thinking of you after the show," Bucky moans. He rocks his hips back again and Steve got the hint. He slowly pushes one finger past the wet ring of muscle, groaning at the tightness.  
He couldn't wait to get it around his cock.  
Bucky grips his shoulders again and moans low in his chest.  
"I-I kept thinking of how it'd feel when you fucked me. I need it Stevie. So bad."

Steve whimpers softly at his words and slowly pushes a second finger in. He worked the two in and out, arching his fingers up to find Bucky's sweet spot.  
"You're so tight, Buck," he groaned, nosing against Bucky's neck. " _So_ tight. Just around two fingers. _Fuck_..."  
He curls and scissors his fingers, relishing in the way Bucky pushes against his hand, needing more.

Bucky was gripping at Steve's shoulders now, letting out pornographic moans and gasps. His hips caught rhythm with Steve's fingers and he fucks back against his hand. The sight of the wrecked dancer on top of him made Steve growl from the back of his throat.

"Hmm... If you keep doing this, Stevie, I'm gonna cum right here," he chuckles. Right before he pulls away, Steve drags his fingertips against Bucky’s prostate and he almost screams. When Steve pulls his fingers back, it leaves Bucky throbbing and moaning, but despite the uncomfortableness of the lack of stimulation, he knew he was getting something much better in return. Bucky reaches into his top and pulls the shiny packet of a condom out.

He scoots back, far enough that he could reach Steve's dick easily, and rips the condom open to slip it on. Steve hisses at the feeling and grips Bucky's long, soft hair. God, he missed those lips and wasn't above telling Bucky so.  
Bucky giggles, Steve's hand falls to his thin waist from his hair.  
"You're gonna get something better than my lips, tiger."

Steve all but yanks the dancer back up his lap and assists him into place. Both men draw out low moans when the tip of Steve's cock pushes inside of Bucky, stretching him perfectly.  
Bucky's eyes roll back and he pushes himself down farther, nearly to the hilt. The burn of the stretch wasn't painful, but it was present and it forced him to take it slow (much to his dismay). He pulls his hips back up and takes his time riding Steve, making sure to go slow so he could feel every thick inch.

"So tight," Steve reminds him, his voice barely above a whisper. "Feel so good around me, Buck. _O-oh god_... Wanna pin you against that wall and fuck your brains out."  
His fingers were digging bruises into Bucky's hips, but he didn't care. In all honesty, he wanted to leave marks.  
Bucky lets out an animalistic growl and chuckles. "Jesus, Rogers," he grips the hair at the base of Steve's neck and pulls his head back. "You keep talkin' like that and I just might let you."

Bucky attaches his lips to the stretch of pale skin in front of him and sinks his teeth playfully into it. Steve moans and bucks up into him as a bruise slowly forms where he nipped at him. It took literally everything from Bucky to not mark up the super soldier more, because honestly, Steve would look so pretty with a neck full of deep red hickeys and bruises. Maybe one more hickey won't hurt, he thinks as he sucks a small mark just below Steve's ear.

It's all sweat and skin and heat between the two of them as Bucky rides Steve, hips grinding. Steve's senses had fleeted once he pushed into Bucky, so now he had no choice but to take ever single thing Bucky was giving him. It was a sweet torture, the slow drag of Bucky's hips and the sharp sting from his nails digging into Steve's shoulders.  
Bucky grips the collar of Steve's shirt and, quite literally, rips it open, sending a few buttons clattering to the floor.

Bucky's hands are all over him, blunt fingernails leaving delicious red scratches down his chest, plump lips following suit. Feeling a little cocky, Bucky bites at one of Steve's large pecs and licks at it to soothe the ache. He smiles when teeth marks slowly start appearing.  
Steve can't help it, and in the dark of the room and the heat radiating off of the two, he grabs two handfuls of Bucky's ass and thrusts up; only once to gauge the dancers reaction. It was intoxicating. So he did it again. And again, and again.

The noise that pulls itself from Bucky's throat was absolutely filthy. Somewhere between a shout and a mewl, whatever it was, Steve needs to hear more so he grabs him harder— hard enough to leave impressive bruises— and just goes to fucking town.  
He's fucking him hard and deep and fast and fuck; Bucky feels so fucking good squeezing around Steve, taking his cock so well.

"So fucking good, baby. God, look at you," Steve pants. Bucky looks down at him with glazed, hooded eyes and bites down on his lip to keep from moaning so Steve could finish talking because he wanted to hear that deep, dark chocolate voice. Could you blame him?  
"Look at you ridin' me like you never had a cock in your life. _Mmmm_... Doin' good Buck."

Of course Bucky has had a dick before (obvi, it was kinda part of his job) but holy fuck, he never had one as good as Steve's. He was long and thick and fit so fucking perfectly in Bucky it was like he was made for him. And if that ain't romantic, Bucky didn't know what was.  
He opens his mouth to say something, but when Steve pounds against that sweet spot again all that comes out is a loud, keening moan.

"Fuck, Steve! God... M-more..." Bucky wasn't even sure if Steve caught half of that slurred sentence, so when he was picked up and turned around it was a bit of a shock. Steve was now standing over Bucky who was kneeling on the chair, holding onto the back rail and just taking.  
Steve made a mental note to thank Tony for bolting the chair to the floor as he continues to pound the daylights out of Bucky. He could properly see his cock disappear in and out of Bucky at this angle and he was glad he was able to switch to this position at all; his limbs felt like jello from the incessant teasing on the dancers part.

"So deep... Fuck, Steve you're— _uh_! You're so good... So _fucking_ good," Bucky moans, setting a rhythm with Steve by pushing his hips back into the thrusts.  
Steve's large hand was resting on the small of Bucky's back so he could easily hold the panties to the side as he drills into him and his other hand ran up his spine to tangle into the thick mess of his hair. Something primal switched on in Steve's head and he tugs his hair back so hard that Bucky is forced up, his back pressing against Steve's sweaty, exposed chest.

This new angle allowed Steve to reach in front of him to jerk Bucky off much easier. Bucky's head falls back against the strong shoulder behind him as he moans at the warm fist around him, and it's all so much. The stimulation all around him was making his head fuzzy and God only knows what it was doing to the drunk super soldier.  
Bucky can usually last for about an hour (maybe on account of the fact that all the men he's encountered in this line of work were either creepy or just really bad at sex) so the fact that his stomach was starting to build up in tension shocked him.

" _Steeevvee_ ," he moans. "Stevie, I-I can't— 'm gonna cum." He has no idea what he's saying— surprised he could even formulate a sentence that well when Captain "Big Dick" America is pounding the absolute life out of him, completely taking away any control he had over the whole situation.

"Yeah?" Steve coos. Now it was his turn to nip at the shell of Bucky's ear. "Gonna cum all over my fist, Buck?"

Bucky's hand reaches up and threads through Steve's sweaty blonde hair; he tugs hard.  
"Fuck, if you keep talking like that I-I will. _Uhh, fuck_!"

His cock is dripping down Steve's fist and he's clenching around him, desperately chasing his orgasm. Steve's hand moves from his hair to his throat and gave it a squeeze. It wasn't hard enough to cut off Bucky's breath completely, but it did turn his loud moans into strained whimpers.  
_Steve Rogers, you kinky son of a bitch_.

Bucky’s cock is damn near throbbing with how bad he needs to cum and his breath was coming out in short, broken pants.  
Steve's hand cuts off his air supply completely and whispers hotly, " _Cum for me, baby_ ," that fucking did it. Bucky's eyes roll back as he cums— hard and heavy— shouting Steve's name so loud that someone was bound to hear them. Fuck, it was amazing.

His skin is absolutely on fire from the intense pleasure that washes over his body, and Steve helps him ride his orgasm out, still chasing his own.  
"Bucky... Bucky— _fffuck_! Turn around so I can paint your pretty face in my cum. Want that? Want me to cum all over your face?" Steve growls. Bucky nods in response, unable to speak. A few more rough, sloppy thrusts and Steve is pulling out of Bucky, pitching the condom to the side, and jerking off just above his hot open mouth.

Bucky looks like such a good, needy slut. Mouth open, ready for Steve to coat his face. Steve's free hand grips at his hair again and tugs it hard. Hard enough to pull a yelp of surprise from his bitten lips. Steve thrusts into his fist one, two, three more times until finally he's cumming, and cumming, and cumming. Painting Bucky up like the little whore he is; marking him.  
He lets out a low groan as he milks every single drop from his cock.

Bucky quickly swallows down whatever landed on his tongue (and whatever he could reach with his tongue) and moans at the taste— sweetness with a little saltiness— melting into the chair.

As the air between the two settle Steve let's out a low chuckle.  
"Sorry," he says as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to Bucky. He takes it and cleans off his face, giving a small laugh himself.  
"Sorry for the most mind-blowing sex I've had in years? You're crazy, Rogers," he muses. He stands up and— holy fuck his legs are useless right now— and reaches into his top again.  
"God, it was guys like you that made me want to get into this line of work."

Steve cocks an eyebrow at him. "Really?" he asks. Bucky's pulls a small something from his pocket and nods.  
"Hell yeah. But, all I get is old married men, lookin' for an easy fuck cos their wives no longer put out." He almost laughs, shaking his head like he can't believe that all he had to do to get the perfect fuck was to ask about Tony's friends.  
Thank God Stark forced Steve to come, he thinks.

"Bucky that's..." Steve looks down at Bucky. Then to what's in Bucky's hand. Then back.  
"That's awful, Buck," he finally manages.  
Bucky shrugs like it was just a normal, average, everyday thing he went through (which it kinda was, but only Friday through Sunday and occasionally Wednesday).

"It's fine," he says truthfully. "But now I have you, tiger. And I expect to hear from you again very soon."  
And, before he saunters off, he lifts that small something from his hand and puts it against Steve's lips for him to bite down on.  
"See you around, soldier," he purrs and exits the room right the way he entered. His whole body swaying with such confidence and ease that Steve couldn't help but stare for a few seconds even after Bucky had disappeared.

He takes the something from his mouth and stares at what seems to be a business card with Bucky's name, email address, and business phone. Down in the right hand corner of the little card was his personal phone number, scribbled in neat, blue handwriting and a little heart next to it. Steve can't help but smile.

He'll definitely be calling Bucky soon. _Very soon indeed._


End file.
